Thirst Relieved

XVII. Thirst Relieved

XVII.
THIRST RELIEVED

“In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto Me, and drink. He that believeth on Me, as the Scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.”—John vii. 37. 38.

THE text which heads this chapter contains one of those mighty sayings of Christ which deserve to be printed in letters of gold. All the stars in heaven are bright and beautiful; yet even a child can see that one star excelleth another in glory. All Scripture is given by inspiration of God; but that heart must indeed be cold and dull which does not feel that some verses are peculiarly rich and full. Of such verses this text is one.

In order to see the whole force and beauty of the text, we must remember the place, the time, and the occasion when it comes in.

The place, then, was Jerusalem, the metropolis of Judaism, and the stronghold of priests and scribes, of Pharisees and Sadducees.—The occasion was the Feast of Tabernacles, one of those great annual feasts when every Jew, if he could, went up to the temple, according to the law.—The time was “the last day of the feast,” when all the ceremonies were drawing to a close, when the water drawn from the fountain of Siloam, according to traditional custom, had been solemnly poured on the altar, and nothing remained for worshippers but to return home.

At this critical moment, our Lord Jesus Christ “stood” forward on a prominent place, and spoke to the assembled crowds. I doubt not He read their hearts. He saw them going away with aching consciences and unsatisfied minds, having got nothing from their blind teachers the Pharisees and Sadducees, and carrying away nothing but a barren recollection of pompous forms. He saw and pitied them, and cried aloud, like a herald, “If any man thirst, let him come unto Me and drink.”—That this was all our Lord said on this memorable occasion, I take leave to doubt. I suspect it is only the key-note of His address. But this, I imagine, was the first sentence that fell from His lips: “If any man thirst, let him come unto Me.” If anyone wants living, satisfying water, let him come unto ME.

Let me remind my readers, in passing, that no prophet or apostle ever took on himself to use such language as this. “Come with 263us,” said Moses to Hobab (Num. x. 29); “Come to the waters,” says Isaiah (Isa. lv. 1); “Behold the Lamb,” says John the Baptist (John i. 29); “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,” says St. Paul (Acts xvi. 31) But no one except Jesus of Nazareth ever said, “Come to ME.” That fact is very significant. He that said,”Come to Me,” knew and felt, when He said it, that He was the eternal Son of God, the promised Messiah, the Saviour of the world.

There are three points in this great saying of our Lord to which I now propose to direct attention.

I. You have a case supposed: “If any man thirst.”

II. You have a remedy proposed: “Let him come unto Me, and drink.”

III. You have a promise held out: “He that believeth on Me, as the Scripture hath said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living waters.”

Each of these points concerns all into whose hands this paper may fall. On each of them I have somewhat to say.

I. In the first place, then, you have a case supposed. Our Lord says, “If any man thirst.”

Bodily thirst is notoriously the most painful sensation to which the frame of mortal man is liable. Read the story of the miserable sufferers in the black hole at Calcutta.—Ask anyone who has travelled over desert plains under a tropical sun.—Hear what any old soldier will tell you is the chief want of the wounded on a battlefield.—Remember what the crews of ships lost in mid-ocean, tossed for days in boats without water, go through.—Mark the awful words of the rich man in the parable: “Send Lazarus that he may dip the tip of his finger in water to cool my tongue: for I am tormented in this flame.” (Luke xvi. 24.) The testimony is unvarying. There is nothing so terrible and hard to bear as thirst.

But if bodily thirst is so painful, how much more painful is thirst of soul? Physical suffering is not the worst part of eternal punishment. It is a light thing, even in this world, compared to the suffering of the mind and inward man. To see the value of our souls, and find out they are in danger of eternal ruin—to feel the burden of unforgiven sin, and not to know where to turn for relief—to have a conscience sick and ill at ease, and to be ignorant of the remedy—to discover that we are dying, dying daily, and yet unprepared to meet God—to have some clear view of our own guilt and wickedness, and yet to be in utter darkness about absolution—this is the highest degree of pain—the pain which drinks up soul and spirit, and pierces joints and marrow! And this no doubt 264is the thirst of which our Lord is speaking. It is thirst after pardon, forgiveness, absolution, and peace with God. It is the craving of a really awakened conscience, wanting satisfaction and not knowing where to find it, walking through dry places and unable to get rest.

This is the thirst which the Jews felt when Peter preached to them on the day of Penetcost. It is written that they were “pricked In their heart, and said, Men and brethren, what shall we do?” (Acts ii. 37.)

This is the thirst which the Philippian jailor felt, when he awoke to consciousness of his spiritual danger and felt the earthquake making the prison reel under his feet. It is written that he “came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out, saying, Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” (Acts xvi. 30.)

This is the thirst which many of the greatest servants of God seem to have felt when light first broke in on their minds. Augustine seeking rest among the Manichean heretics and finding none—Luther groping after truth among monks in Erfurt Monastery—John Bunyan agonizing amidst doubts and conflicts in his Elstow cottage—George Whitefield groaning under self-imposed austerities, for want of clear teaching, when an undergraduate at Oxford—all have left on record their experience. I believe they all knew what our Lord meant when He spoke of “thirst.”

And surely it is not too much to say that all of us ought to know something of this thirst, if not as much as Augustine, Luther, Bunyan, or Whitefield. Living as we do in a dying world—knowing as we do, if we will confess it, that there is a world beyond the grave, and that after death comes the judgment—feeling, as we must do in our better moments, what poor, weak, unstable, defective creatures we all are, and how unfit to meet God—conscious as we must be in our inmost heart of hearts, that on our use of time depends our place in eternity—we ought to feel and to realise something like “thirst” for a sense of peace with the living God. But alas, nothing proves so conclusively the fallen nature of man as the general, common want of spiritual appetite! For money, for power, for pleasure, for rank, for honour, for distinction—for all these the vast majority are now intensely thirsting. To lead forlorn hopes, to dig for gold, to storm a breach, to try to hew a way through thick-ribbed ice to the North Pole, for all these objects there is no lack of adventurers and volunteers. Fierce and unceasing is the competition for these corruptible crowns! But few indeed, by comparison, are those who thirst after eternal life. No wonder that the natural man is called in Scripture “dead,” and “sleeping,” and blind, and deaf. No wonder that he is said to need a second birth and a new creation. There is no surer symptom 265or mortification in the body than the loss of all feeling. There is no more painful sign of an unhealthy state of soul than an utter absence or spiritual thirst. Woe to that man of whom the Saviour can say, “Thou knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked.” (Rev. iii. 17.)

But who is there among the readers of this paper that feels the burden of sin, and longs for peace with God? Who is there that really feels the words of our Prayer-book Confession: “I have erred and strayed like a lost sheep—there is no health in me—I am a miserable offender”? Who is there that enters into the fullness of our Communion Service, and can say with truth, “The remembrance of my sins is grievous, and the burden of them is intolerable”? You are the man that ought to thank God. A sense of sin, guilt, and poverty of soul, is the first stone laid by the Holy Ghost when He builds a spiritual temple. He convinces of sin. Light was the first thing called into being in the material creation. (Gen. i. 3.) Light about our own state is the first work in the new creation. Thirsting soul, I say again, you are the person who ought to thank God. The kingdom of God is near you. It is not when we begin to feel good, but when we feel bad, that we take the first step towards heaven. Who taught thee that thou wast naked? Whence came this inward light? Who opened thine eyes and made thee see and feel? Know this day that flesh and blood hath not revealed these things unto thee, but our Father which is in heaven. Universities may confer degrees, and schools may impart knowledge of all mysteries, but they cannot make men feel sin. To realise our spiritual need, and feel true spiritual thirst, is the A B C in saving Christianity.

It is a great saying of Elihu, in the book of Job—“God looketh upon men, and if any say, I have sinned, and perverted that which was right, and it profited me not; He will deliver his soul from death, and his life shall see the light.” (Job xxxiii. 27, 28.) Let him that knows anything of spiritual “thirst” not be ashamed. Rather let him lift up his head and begin to hope. Let him pray that God would carry on the work He has begun, and make him feel more.

II. I pass from the case supposed to the remedy proposed. “If any man thirst,” says our blessed Lord Jesus Christ, “let him come unto Me, and drink.”

There is a grand simplicity about this little sentence which cannot be too much admired. There is not a word in it of which the literal meaning is not plain to a child. Yet, simple as it appears, it is rich in spiritual meaning. Like the Koh-i-noor diamond, which you may carry between finger and thumb, it is of unspeakable value. 266It solves that mighty problem which all the philosophers of Greece and Rome could never solve—“How can man have peace with God? “Place it in your memory side by side with six other golden sayings of your Lord. “I am the Bread of life: he that cometh unto me shall never hunger; and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.”—“I am the Light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life.”—“I am the Door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved.”—“I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life: no man cometh unto the Father but by me.”—“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”—” Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out.”—Add to these six texts the one before you to-day. Get the whole seven by heart. Rivet them down in your mind, and never let them go. When your feet touch the cold river, on the bed of sickness and in the hour of death, you will find these seven texts above all price. (John vi. 35; viii. 12; x. 9; xiv. 6; Matt. xi. 28; John vi. 37.)

For what is the sum and substance of these simple words? It is this. Christ is that Fountain of living water which God has graciously provided for thirsting souls. From Him, as out of the rock smitten by Moses, there flows an abundant stream for all who travel through the wilderness of this world. In Him, as our Redeemer and Substitute, crucified for our sins and raised again for our justification, there is an endless supply of all that men can need—pardon, absolution, mercy, grace, peace, rest, relief, comfort, and hope.

This rich provision Christ has bought for us at the price of His own precious blood. To open this wondrous fountain He suffered for sin, the just for the unjust, and bore our sins in His own body on the tree. He was made sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him. (1 Peter ii. 24; iii. 18; 2 Cor. v. 21.) And now He is sealed and appointed to be the Reliever of all who are labouring and heavy laden, and the Giver of living water to all who thirst. It is His office to receive sinners. It is His pleasure to give them pardon, life, and peace. And the words of the text are a proclamation He makes to all mankind—“If any man thirst, let him come unto Me, and drink.”